


black cats and broomsticks (are too flashy)

by JohnnysFrenchPress (CoffeeColoredMornings)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Human Johnny, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Oral Sex, witch jaehyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeColoredMornings/pseuds/JohnnysFrenchPress
Summary: It’s not a secret. Well, it is, but it isn’t. Johnny likes Jaehyun. No one needs to consult tarot cards or tea leaves, or scatter bones or speak to the dead in order to find out. They just need to look and the infatuation is plain to see.Perhaps a better kept secret, at least to who matters, is Jaehyun’s return of Johnny’s feelings.After three years of harboring a flame for each other, Jaehyun feels it's finally time to confess. And there's no better time to reap the rewards than on the night of a red moon. Unless, of course, you're Jaehyun who can't brew a basic serenity potion or craft a generic good luck charm.**Or Jaehyun is a hot mess of a witch. Johnny is his best friend and roommate. They're both hopelessly in love and take three years to admit it.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 11
Kudos: 159
Collections: Coffee Dates Fest [1st Round]





	black cats and broomsticks (are too flashy)

**Author's Note:**

> Submission for Coffee Dates, a JohnJae Fest~
> 
> Prompt #009
> 
> Jaehyun is a witch. The thing is– he knows how to do certain simple magic, like tarot cards or potions. But, instead of doing public services like his brothers, he sticks to helping his friends, doing little charms, or giving them enchanted necklaces. He's not a lone witch, though, he lives with Johnny, his human roommate, who is also absolutely in love with him. He knows but hasn't had the opportunity to let him know that he knows–redundancy a part. So, being the crappy witch he is, and having been pining for Johnny the last three years of his life, he prepares a grand feeling reveal the night of a red moon.
> 
> Jaehyun has the bad habit of doing half-assed predictions, like telling Taeyong that he's gonna break his phone, but not telling him when or how! Also, you can make whatever you want with the grand reveal, go apeshit!!! it can end in smut if u want too, be free to do anything you want! I just want witch Jaehyun being a mess.
> 
> Not angst or any bad ending, no love potions neither, true feelings only!!!
> 
> **
> 
> I saw messy witch Jaehyun and immediately felt connected to this prompt.
> 
> To the prompter, I hope I did your vision justice. This was such a fun fic to write, so thank you so much for prompting!

Jaehyun has never smelled death, but he imagines the scent permeating the air of his small apartment kitchen is eerily close.

"God, what is it?" Johnny groans. He's on his hands and knees, crawling a jagged circle around their island, checking the baseboards and in the lower cupboards for a sign of anything that may be emanating the foul smell.

"It's like pond scum," Jaehyun muses from his spot on top of the island he's helping—flicking his wrist in lazy motions to open the cabinets mounted to the yellowed paisley wallpaper. "And cabbage, but like cabbage that was left out in the sun for a few weeks then someone shat on it." The cabinet containing all of their mugs is clear, frequently used, and cleaned by Johnny due to his intense coffee addiction. A muted thump and a low groan sound beneath his feet. "Someone who eats a lot of cinnamon...and ginger."

"Jaehyun," Johnny's head pops up. His face is red and his dark hair is mused. Jaehyun's pretty sure there's a dust bunny tangled near the crown of his head. "Are you sure you checked the pantry?"

"Of course."

"No, I mean like," Johnny stands with a groan, "like actually moving things around, taking things out to see what may be in there."

Their oven slams shut with a metallic clang. Johnny keeps his gaze. Jaehyun squirms.

"Can you stop staring?" Jaehyun looks up at Johnny from beneath his lashes. It's not meant to be coy, more so defense against his six-foot-something roommate with a fondness for eye contact. It's not that Johnny's eyes are ugly—they're nice, honey speckled with cinnamon or dark roast coffee depending on the light—but they're intense, and frankly unsettling when they're pinning Jaehyun down.

Johnny runs a hand through his hair, further musing it up, but he does knock the dust bunny out and back to its home on their laminate floor. "You didn't check the pantry."

"I did! I just didn't  _ move _ things in the pantry."

Johnny pinches his eyes shut and exhales a sharp breath through his nose. "Why not?"

"Honestly?" Jaehyun says, a sheepish smile digging a faint impression of dimples into his cheeks. "A bag of hot Cheetos called my name and I couldn't resist their haunting song."

"So, not only did you not search for the Thing of Death in our kitchen, but you ate all of the hot Cheetos."

"Not all of them."

"The one-eighth of crumbs you leave in chip bags never counts."

“You’ve never complained about it before.”

“That’s because I just buy new chips,” Johnny sighs out. “Forget it, let’s just check the pantry together.”

Jaehyun slips into the small space between the kitchen island and Johnny. Both men pretend not to see the respective dusting of pink on ears and cheeks as Johnny offers an exaggerated ‘after you’ flourish of his arms.

The pantry, like most apartment pantries, is small and narrow. There’s just enough room for Johnny and Jaehyun to walk in and move around in its dim confines—the bare 40 watt light bulb only serving to cast shadows and hide spiderwebs.

The silence is almost as thick as the dust laying in a heavy layer on the thin wooden shelves. Jaehyun fights the urge to sneeze as he stacks packages of ramen and cans soup at his feet. "God," Jaehyun groans, pulling what feels like the twentieth can of soup off a shelf. "Why do we have so much soup? We don't even eat fucking soup."

Johnny pauses in the sorting of their chip bags to raise an eyebrow in Jaehyun's direction. "You remember when you got sick after Taeyong's birthday?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you also remember begging me to buy you, and I quote, ‘ _ all the fucking soup your big yaoi hands can carry’ _ ? And then only eating one can of chicken noodle soup before vomiting it all over the rug your brother bought us?"

"Hmm, no, nope," Jaehyun shakes his head, "doesn't ring a bell." It does ring a bell, vaguely. The fever he had at the time left a fog over his mind, but Jaehyun does recall the unfortunate flavor of regurgitated canned chicken noodle soup. He also recalls that no cleaner brought from the store or conjured up from his arsenal of potions could remove the stain from the rug. But that's neither here nor there, and Jaehyun is infinitely grateful that his older brother Junmyeon rarely visits their dingy apartment.

"Ring a bell my ass," Johnny mutters, but he goes back to shifting through their half-decimated chip collection.

Jaehyun, forever taking the high road, doesn't respond directly to Johnny's jab. Instead, he asks, "Should we just throw them out or we could," Jaehyun glances at the dark green label of split pea soup, "donate them?"

"You sure you want to get rid of the soup?"

"Not like we're going to eat them."

"I don't know," Johnny shrugs, checking the expiration date on a bag of marshmallows. "You may get sick again and demand I empty the store's stock of soup."

"That was one time."

"Jae, you always crave random shit when you get sick."

Jaehyun squints at Johnny in disbelief. "I do not. Name one time I did that aside from the soup."

"You got the flu in May at demanded I make you grilled cheese with mustard for  _ every _ meal, an allergy infection in March that sent me to the store every day for a week and a half for the deli’s vegetarian kimbap, and I scoured the city for ‘the best quality’ samgyetang when you got a cold in January because you wouldn't stop bitching about how ‘the best quality’ samgyetang and only ‘the best quality’ samgyetang would cure you."

"Well," Jaehyun sniffs and immediately regrets it when the rotten smell hits him. "It did cure me."

"Or the boatload of TheraFlu I got you did."

"Oh, yeah. Thanks for that."

Johnny's laugh is surprising and warm. He shakes his head at the younger before bending down and pulling out a battered cardboard box. "Load up the soup in here, and anything else that isn't expired that you know we won't eat. I can drop it off at a donation center on my way to work on Monday."

"Noice,” Jaehyun says, then turns back to the veritable wall of soup.

Jaehyun has all of the soup and half of their canned chicken collection—Jaehyun may have gone through an intense protein only phase in order to bulk up a bit—in the cardboard box when Johnny recoils. Shoving himself back with a guttural gag, Johnny trips over their pyramid of processed food, his arm quickly coming up to cover his mouth and nose.

The smell hits Jaehyun first, it’s deep and coiling, something malodorous that sticks in the nose. He sees the small kimchi jar second. In the dim light of their bare, single bulb, pasty mold crawls up the curved sides of the jar. There is a thick layer of tar-like muck filling the jar up a fourth of the way and rotten remains of what were carefully picked lemongrass and basil.

“What the fuck is that?” Johnny asks voice muffled through his arm covering his nose and mouth. “Fuck, dude, it just  _ moved _ !”

Johnny cowers further into the threshold of their pantry, eyes wide and firmly fixed on the repurposed kimchi jar.

“Don’t exaggerate,” Jaehyun sighs, but he’s still too wary to go near the jar. He knows what it is, he remembers stressing about getting the potion made in enough time, and Johnny using his lunchtime to pick him up organic ground cinnamon and swiping a few of the finest blades of lemongrass and basil from their community garden. “It shouldn’t hurt us.” It was made for protection after all.

“To hell, it won’t. Jae, I’m not kidding, that thing moved again.” Johnny recoils further into the doorway, almost becoming one with the faux-wood frame. He throws Jaehyun a piercing look, thick brows angling low over his eyes. For a moment, Jaehyun is glad he’s a witch and not a vampire, as Johnny’s glare feels targeted like a stake to the heart. “Do you even know what it is?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun scoffs and rolls his eyes at Johnny’s dubious look. Neither have gotten closer to the jar, and after the first look, Jaehyun can’t quite manage to keep a fixed gaze on his festering potion. “It’s the protection spell I made for Jungwoo and Jeno. You know, when they were moving into their new place.”

Johnny stills. “Their  _ new _ place?” Jaehyun nods, ears warming with a rush of sheepishness. Letting out a gusting sigh, Johnny slumps further into the doorway, his hulking frame shrinking down to let into more watery yellow light from their kitchen. “You mean the one your brothers moved into  _ three months ago _ .” It wasn’t a question this time around. “Fucking hell, Jae, why did you even put the potion in our pantry?”

“Easy,” Jaehyun shrugs, “it needed to charge in the absence of the moon. But, when there was a full moon when they were moving in, so I figured out pantry was dark enough, you know?”

The stern slant of Johnny’s eyebrows made it clear that he ‘did not know’ nor was he a huge fan of Jaehyun’s magical solutions in a pinch.

“Just...wait here,” Johnny says. He shifts back into their kitchen and Jaehyun can hear his roommate rustling through cabinets. Crinkling plastic heralds his return. In his hands is a small, white trash bag. “It’s lemon-scented.” Johnny offers, and Jaehyun gives the bag a more appreciative gaze. No doubt one of Johnny’s purchases as Jaehyun usually goes for the cheapest options, and the scent trash bags fall out of his price range. “Think it’ll help?”

“No,” Jaehyun says, but he takes the bag from Johnny nonetheless. Using the plastic as a makeshift glove, Jaehyun corrals the molding potion into the trash bag and double knots the drawstrings as an extra protective measure against the smell. It helps, minimally.

He looks back at Johnny, who’s looking in at him, eyes shadowed under the low-watt lights of their apartment. “Feel like a walk to the garbage bin?”

Johnny laughs, deep and rich, and Jaehyun feels the resonant notes slip like a warm caress down his back. “I could use the cardio.”

The night air is brisk and carries the crisp cinnamon scent of early autumn when they exit their apartment. Either through poor planning on the apartment’s contractor’s side or through sheer ill-luck (Jaehyun may have overlooked this when signing the lease), there is only one garbage bin in their apartment complex, and it’s on the opposite side from their unit.

“I told you to bring a jacket,” Johnny says when Jaehyun shivers for the third time.

“Jackets are a social construct,” Jaehyun says. It’s not necessarily true, but the excuse is easy and the not-quite-truth is safely spoken under a gibbous moon.

“Which is why you steal all of mine.” Johnny rolls his eyes, but he still bumps closer to Jaehyun as they round a corner. And if Jaehyun sways in even more so their arms brush and clothes rustle against one another, neither of them say anything.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun says. He can make out the mammoth shape of the large garbage bin, scratched metal glinting dully in the moonlight. “For forgetting about the potion.”

Johnny shrugs, a careless little lift of broad shoulders. “It’s okay. It happens.”

Except it doesn’t. Jaehyun knows this, and he knows Johnny knows this too. No self-respecting witch would ever brew a potion under the incorrect phase of the moon, and they most certainly wouldn’t forget about it for three months. But Johnny hands out pardons and unconditional understanding to Jaehyun like the Pope hands out blessings.

“I’m also sorry for eating all the Cheetos,” Jaehyun says, opening the garbage door with a creak of rusting metal.

The lemon-scented bag of ruinous potion hits the metal chute with a dull bang. Johnny smiles, wide and resplendent, the moon highlighting the planes of his face and the gentle curve of his lips. “It’s okay,” he says, shouldering the door closed and moving back into Jaehyun’s orbit, offering his body heat without a word. “I can buy more.”

“Probably should buy a couple of bags next time. Oh, and the Flamin’ Hot Limon kind.”

Johnny’s laugh echoes in the alley of the garbage area. Jaehyun may not have the finesse to brew a proper potion, but he can conjure Johnny’s laugh. And those, Jaehyun thinks, certainly have a magic of their own.

* * *

It’s not a secret. Well, it is, but it isn’t. Johnny likes Jaehyun. No one needs to consult tarot cards or tea leaves, or scatter bones or speak to the dead in order to find out. They just need to look and the infatuation is plain to see.

Perhaps a better-kept secret, at least to who matters, is Jaehyun’s return of Johnny’s feelings. He knows Johnny harbors a flame of feeling for him. He’s felt the other man's adoration grow from a kindling spark to a burning inferno within the last three years they’ve lived together. Funnily enough, his own feelings went from flintstone to firestorm within a matter of months.

Johnny is easy to love. He’s humble and helpful, he makes Jaehyun laugh and brings him all assortments of supplies for his magic. He even brought Jaehyun’s turtle, Stephen, a brand new state-of-the-are tank after hearing Jaehyun complain that the turtle was depressed. 

(Stephen is still morose, even in his state-of-the-art tank. But, now he’s morose on a much larger rock and has more room to swim in depressed despondence.)

“You’re pathetic,” Jungwoo says, fork loaded with a tender cut of steak. He runs the tines through a smear of mashed potatoes. “You’re both pathetic, but you are more than him. It’s been three years, buck up and say something.”

They’re at lunch. Junmyeon had invited Jaehyun and their younger brothers out to his husband Sehun’s newest restaurant. (Not that Sehun works there. Sehun can't cook. But Sehun does come from a fountain of money and makes sound business investments. He owns the restaurant—he owns a number of them all as posh as the next—just like he owns Junmyeon's heart and the good graces of the three younger Jung brothers.)

“He has a point.” Junmyeon raises his hand to quell the burst of outrage bubbling on the tip of Jaehyun’s tongue. “Not necessarily about you being pathetic, but three years is a long time to harbor feelings for someone without confessing. Especially when you know they return your feelings.”

Jaehyun stabs a broccoli floret. The action does very little for him, so he does it again, this time stabbing a roughly hewn piece of ribeye. They had been discussing his love-life—and cowardice and lack of a backbone—for the past ten minutes. In a truly unfortunate turn of events, Jaehyun has discovered that no amount of expensive and perfectly cooked medium rare ribeye could fix the annoyance that comes with his brothers dissecting his love-life into fine slices like the root of a particularly ornery mandrake.

“Yeah,” Jeno pipes up. “I’m not even asking for you and spirits keep telling me it’s time for you to confess to Johnny-hyung.” He has a smudge of harissa sauce on the corner of his mouth. Jaehyun narrows his eyes, serrated knife skidding across the fine porcelain of his plate.

“You don’t get an opinion. You can’t even get all of your food in your mouth,” Jaehyun spits. Junmyeon nudges a napkin towards Jeno while Jungwoo thumbs at his mouth. “Nonetheless, figure out when’s the best time for me to confess. And you,” he points at Junmyeon with the handle of his knife, “Sehun is the one who asked you out, you just went along for the ride. And you,” Jaehyun directly the blade of his knife at Jungwoo, quick to yank it away when the younger leans in to bite it. “You’ve never confessed to a single person in your life.”

“That’s because everyone confesses to me,” Jungwoo says, a pleased smirk curling the corners of his lips.

“Exactly!” Jaehyun spears through a thin cut of zucchini.

No one responds. Jaehyun is flushed, his plate of food shredded and smashed. Junmyeon sips his water. Jungwoo steals a slice of salmon off Jeno’s plate while the younger checks his phone.

“There’s a red moon coming up,” Jeno says. He sets his phone down neatly and fixes Jaehyun with a curious stare. “You should confess then.”

Jaehyun already knows the answer before the question leaves his lips, but he can’t bite back a scathing, “and why should I?”

Junmyeon sighs and folds his napkin. “You already know why.” Jaehyun pinches his lips together, dimples poking out, but he nods. A red moon, a symbol of abundance, a time for people to reap what they’ve sown. “It’s time to harvest, Jaehyunnie. Think about it this way: Johnny does so much for you—”

“He's the reason you're still alive,” Jungwoo says, a snide smile to match the pretty bat of his eyes and mild tone of voice.

Junmyeon glares but doesn’t refute Jungwoo’s statement. “Wouldn't it be nice to do something in return for Johnny?” He continues, as if uninterrupted.

Jaehyun pushes his plate of half-eaten, mostly destroyed food away. “Yeah,” he pouts, and he knows his dimples are digging dispirited wells into his cheeks. “But what could I do for him?”

“Suck his dick.”

“Tell him you love him.”

“Light red candles. Lots of them.”

Jaehyun squints at each of his brothers in turn. The subdued chatter of the restaurant fills in the space between them, rich scents of slow-cooked meats and delicate sauces wafting with the passing of the waitstaff. “Do they have to-go boxes here?”

* * *

Their apartment smells of warm baking spices courtesy of Jeno’s red candles. Cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, and clove coil together from where each candle is perched throughout their living room. The room is surprisingly clean for once. Granted, Johnny was the one who cleaned it, but Jaehyun thinks this benefits them both in the long-run.

He’s pacing between the low table in the living room and Stephen’s tank. A well-worn path slowly reveals itself in a darker tread as Jaehyun once more jitters into his room.

“This is stupid,” he says to Stephen. “Like, I get it—the red moon is supposed to be a time of abundance and great for love, but it’s  _ me _ . You know?”

Stephen blinks.

“Yes! You get it!” Stephen does not blink. “There’s no way I won’t fuck up. I always fuck up.” Jaehyun plops back onto his bed, plush navy sheets swallowing his form. “D’you think I can make him happy?” Jaehyun thinks he hears the scratching scuttle of Stephen moving, that or it’s the ice machine trying to kick to life. “Even if we like each other, that doesn’t mean it’s enough. I mean,” Jaehyun huffs and rolls over, punching his duvet paramount softness, “I can’t even make complete divinations or barrier charms. How am I supposed to make him happy?”

The water filter burbles. Stephen does not move from his spot on the large flat rock underneath the heat lamp.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispers, eyes wide as he stares at Stephen. “I forgot to tell him he needs to buy a stronger umbrella.”

* * *

By the time Johnny has come home from work that evening, Jaehyun has lit four more candles and listened to half of  _ American IV: The Man Comes Around _ on his record player. (He may have pushed the tonearm back to listen to  _ Hurt _ more than once.)

Johnny is not drenched as he shrugs off his overcoat and hangs his keys on a small hook by the door.

“You're dry,” Jaehyun says. He’s standing at the entrance to their hallway, the glow of nearly twenty candles spilling in from the living room behind him.

“Uh, yeah,” Johnny says, eyebrow raised in confusion. He toes off his work shoes and places them on the IKEA shoe rack. “Were you expecting different?”

“No,” Jaehyun says quickly, then shakes his head and edges closer. “Well, yes. Maybe.” He pauses. Johnny watches him, the beginnings of concern drawing the lines of his face down. “You need a new umbrella. A stronger one.”

“Gotcha.” Johnny nods. Then he takes a deep inhale of air, cocking his head undoubtedly at the hit of autumn aromatics funneling into their pseudo-foyer. “You haven’t been outside today, have you?”

Jaehyun hadn’t. Maybe if he had gone outside he would’ve known the skies are clear with no rain insight, or maybe if he had the foresight to check his weather app, he would have seen a forecast of sunny with zero percent chance of rain. But Jaehyun hadn’t done any other that; he had washed his sheets, ruined his newly made bed by rolling in anxiety on them, then stressed vacuumed their hallway and lit more candles than on display at Bath & Body Works.

“No.”

“Mhm.” Johnny slips past him. He stops abruptly, mouth dropping in a dumbfounded gape and body pulling to a shocked standstill as he takes in the plethora of candles burning away on any available surface in their living room. “Jeno stopped by?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says. He hedges past Johnny to perch on the couch. He sits for a second, then stands again, wiping his palms on his jeans—far too nice and form-fitting to be worn casually for a day spent indoors. “Yeah, it’s, um, a red moon tonight.”

“I saw,” Johnny says. He flings himself onto the couch, arms and legs splayed in lazy comfort. Dark toffee eyes glance up at him and Johnny quirks a brow, plump lips twisting into a wry grin. “Aren’t you going to sit?”

“Yes, yeah.” Johnny plops unceremoniously down onto the cushion beneath him. “So, the moon. You saw it?”

Johnny hums an affirmative, navigating around a cluster of candles for the TV remote. Their TV flicks on with a flash of light and blip of sound, Guy Fieri’s voice flooding in. “Just started to rise over the skyline as I was driving home. I was thinking about taking some pictures of it later on tonight once it gets higher up in the sky.”

“Cool, cool.” Jaehyun says. Johnny’s fingers twitch next to his shoulder, just a shift of movement between them for they’re touching. On the screen, Guy Fieri stuffs half of a loaded hamburger into his mouth. Jaehyun keeps his eyes resolutely fixed on the show.

“You eaten yet?” Johnny asks. He scrolls through his phone, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“No, nope.” Jaehyun tries to pull his focus away from Johnny’s lower lip, trapped between a defense of straight teeth.

“Cool,” Johnny says, bottom lip slipping out and glistening just so. “I was thinking of ordering some Indian food. Curry and some goan vindaloo.”

“Mmm, some malai kofta, too,” Jaehyun says even though his stomach is a tight tangle of brambles.

“Gotcha.”

“I can—I’ll make us some tea,” Jaehyun offers. He’s not sure if Johnny feels it, the heaviness in the air, something charged and tight that’s just too far into the realm of  _ other _ to be seen and felt.

“One of your blends?”

“Yeah, a new one.”

“So, you’re making me a guinea pig again?” Johnny asks, looking up from his app.

Jaehyun freezes mid-rise from the couch. Wides wide and ears slowly growing hot. “I promise it won’t give you stomach issues like last time.” Stomach issues was a nice way of putting it.

“Let’s hope not,” Johnny says, but he gives Jaehyun a big smile, happiness digging fine lines in his face. 

Jaehyun does not acknowledge his shaky hands as he pours boiling water over his tea blend. The sweet smells of burdock root, orange peels, and ginger steam from the cups. Jaehyun uses their nice cups too, decent china and matching saucer that he lines with only slightly stale cinnamon and honey Teddy Grahams.

“Damn, Jae,” Johnny laughs when Jaehyun sets their cups of tea down. “The red moon really has gotten to you—bringing out the fine china and the Grahams.”

“It’s all about abundance, ba-bro.” Jaehyun nearly chews through his own lip at the near slip of tongue. He snatches the tea, piping hot in the palm of his hands, and takes a big gulp.

Johnny takes a sip of his tea too, and Jaehyun wonders if his own face is as pinched as Johnny’s once the flavor hits his tongue. Johnny glares down at the cup, brows furrowed and bottom lip just beginning to push out. He takes another sip, and Jaehyun does too.

The flavor is the same. 

“It’s a bit,” Johnny smacks his lips and meets Jaehyun’s gaze, “bitter and like burnt. Is it supposed to taste like that?”

“No,” Jaehyun says, frowning down at his own cup. The tea blend is supposed to ring sweet and end with a warm spicy zing on the backend, a perfect combination of ingredients to promote courage and honesty. “I think—maybe it’s just too hot?” Jaehyun’s voice sounds uncertain, even to his own burning ears.

“Should I get some ice cubes?”

“No, no. Just, here.” Jaehyun scoots closer to Johnny, bringing their cups together. He takes a deep breath and blows gently, trying to will the drinks to chill, trying not to let the tremors in his hand or the line of heat that his Johnny’s thigh pressed into his own break is concentration. “Just needed to blow on it. Try it now.”

Johnny shoots him a dubious look but brings the cup back to his lips. He takes a sip and immediately drops the cup with a yelp, jumping up once the liquid splashes in his lap too.

“Fuck!” The teacup rolls to the floor. Their couch and carpet coloring a deep amber as the tea seeps in. “Fuck, it’s hot.” Johnny’s tongue is sticking out, a bright red, and he’s waving at the stain on his slacks.

“Shit! Shit, I’m sorry.” Jaehyun is standing too, trying to pin Johnny down to make sure there’s no serious damage.

Grabbing Johnny’s wrist, Jaehyun pulls his arm out of the way so he can step into Johnny’s space. He cups his jaw, finger squeezing just a bit too tight so he can inspect Johnny’s tongue.

“Your tongue is super red, dude,” Jaehyun says, “But I don’t see any like blisters or bubbling, so I think we’re good. Do you want ice? I think you need ice, just in case. You know what, I’m going to get you ice.”

Johnny pulls back with a throaty laugh, taking hold of Jaehyun’s own wrist to keep him from his ice run. “Jae, I’m fine. It was hot tea, but not hot enough for third-degree burns or anything.” He’s still holding Jaehyun’s wrists in a loose circle. “You okay? You’ve been off all evening. Is it the moon?”

Jaehyun’s blushing. He knows he is, his face and ears feel hotter than the tea. He doubts it’s a pretty blush, no blooming of rose red, he probably looks like he has a splotchy sunburn. The thought makes him want to whine, just a little tantrum over his physiological reactions to being touched by Johnny, or near Johnny.

“I—” Jaehyun starts, a lie ready on his tongue. But then he hears Jungwoo’s voice, a quick parting shot of ‘ _ don’t fuck this up because you can’t sleep on my couch if you do, so just confess and get it over with _ ’. Not the most encouraging thing to hear, but the memory has Jaehyun squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat. He can’t quite meet Johnny’s intense gaze, so he fixes his eyes on his chin. “Jungwoo said I should suck your dick.”

Johnny’s hands squeeze their hold on Jaehyun’s wrist. His eyes are wide, the beginnings of a smile frozen in formation on his face.

Jaehyun has never wished to be an opossum more than in this moment so he can play dead and escape the warning signs of danger.

“You,” Johnny’s voice lags like he’s trying to sound out each individual vowel, “want to suck my dick?”

“That’s not—not what I meant to say. It just slipped out!” Jaehyun makes the fatal mistake of meeting Johnny’s honeyed eyes. His gaze is intense, something dark and unidentifiable swirling behind his carefully leveled stare. Johnny’s not a witch, he doesn’t have an ounce of magic in his bones, but at this moment, Jaehyun has to wonder if there’s something more to the taller man. He’s babbling before he can fully process his next words, “Like, I mean yes, sure, I may have fantasized about sucking your dick. I mean, you have those super tight purple boxers you always wear and like, am I not supposed to look and think?”

Johnny’s lips twitch. A cat-like smirk pulling at his mouth. His eyes go darker as if someone spilled a measure of freshly brewed coffee in them. “Then what did you mean to say?” Maybe he sees Jaehyun’s eyes trying to escape his skull, or feels Jaehyun’s muscles locking beneath his grip because Johnny hums deep in his chest, a soothing shushing sound. He pulls Jaehyun even closer, their arms trapped between their chest. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“I like you, Johnny,” Jaehyun speaks with a stronger voice than he believes himself capable of, and the confession carries a weight with it. Something that settles over them like a thick blanket or a warm rush of water after a long day spent outside.

“I know.”

“But,” Jaehyun balks. He jerks and Johnny lets him step back. “But...how?”

“You’re kind of obvious.”Johnny still hasn’t let go of his wrist and he casually slides his hands down until their palms are pressing together. His smile is small and serene, at complete odds with the whirling mess of shock and confusion that is Jaehyun. “I like you too, you know? I’ve been dropping hints for a while, hoping you’d say something. Honestly, I was prepared to just come clean, myself, and ask you out.” Johnny tucks his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, debating on whether or not to say something else. “Also, you did just admit to dreaming about and wanting to suck my dick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jaehyun nods sagely. A weird sort of calm is slowly seeping into his limbs; his body realizing the coast is clear and no danger is afoot. “I imagine that gave me away a bit?”

“Just a bit.”

“So,” Jaehyun looks at their hands twined together, “could I?”

“Could you what?”

“Suck your dick? Theoretically speaking, unless you’re okay with it then literally speaking.”

Johnny wheezes. Gone is his playful smirk and smoldering eyes. He looks at Jaehyun with something tender and incredulous in his eyes, like he’s one of the wise men offering him a present. Granted, Jaehyun feels a bit closer to a demon at a crossroad. Especially as he takes in a rush of pleasure for striking Johnny speechless.

“I—I, like now?”

“I mean, yeah. Sure? Food isn’t coming for like another hour, right?”

“Yes,” Johnny says, but he doesn’t let go of Jaehyun’s hands to confirm the estimated delivery time of their food. “Can I kiss you first?”

Jaehyun beams, all teeth and dimples, and leans forward, angling his head up as Johnny bends down. Their lips brush together softly, just enough for Jaehyun to know that Johnny’s lips are as plush as they look and that his Tom Ford lip balm pays off.

Their descent into each other is quick. Johnny pulls back and Jaehyun surges forward, arms sliding up to wrap around sturdy shoulders. Johnny reciprocates quickly, one hand cupping Jaehyun’s jaw and the other taking a firm path to rest on his hip.

Everything feels easy, from the way Jaehyun opens up to Johnny, letting the older tongue across his palate and nip teasingly at his lips, to the press of their bodies. Johnny’s hand slips from Jaehyun’s hip to his ass. Sucking Jaehyun’s tongue, he grips a cheek firmly and rolls their hips together.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun hisses, tugging on Johnny’s lip as he grinds into him. He can feel Johnny’s hardening against him, and he’s half tempted to pull back to watch the rocking of their hips.

Johnny’s chuckle is pressed into the thin skin covering his racing pulse, a deep vibration followed by an open mouth kiss. Jaehyun drops his head back and Johnny traces the vein in his neck with a questing tongue, trailing a blaze of sucking kisses along the throat laid bare for him.

“You’re so,” Johnny nips at the hinge of his jaw, voice already wrecked through with gravel, “so fuck beautiful, you know that?”

Jaehyun moans, a helpless little sound, and tries to pull Johnny even closer, hands tugging on firm muscle. Johnny's lips are swollen and red, a light flush is high on his cheekbones and his eyes could rival the stars in the night sky they’re so alive and burning.

“Please,” Jaehyun whimpers, and he finds it easy to beg. “Please, let me suck your cock.”

“Yes, fuck, yes.” Johnny laughs breathlessly, pulling back to remove his shirt. “You too, baby.”

Jaehyun removes his shirt quickly and takes but a moment to appreciate Johnny’s sculpted torso before he’s diving for his pants. Eager fingers unbuckle his belt and pry his slack’s button from its hole. 

“I like it,” Jaehyun says smiling as he tugs Johnny’s pants and boxers down in one go. He falls to his knees, hands bracing themselves on Johnny’s thighs and his thick cock stands proudly between his legs. The tip is red and leaking, and Jaehyun can’t help himself. He runs the flat of his tongue from base to weeping tip, suckling on the underside. “I like it when you call me baby.” He mouths the words against Johnny’s dick, dark eye looking up at the taller man.

Johnny is a sight to behold. He’s trembling, body leaning back on the side of the couch and hands fisting the cushions. The flush on his cheeks has spilled down his neck and to his chest, the color of one of the light-red wines he drinks in the summertime.

Jaehyun opens his mouth and bobs his head down, not too far, just wanting to get another taste of the man he’s been in love with for three years. He rubs his tongue on the thick vein on the underside of Johnny’s cock, relishes the weight of Johnny in his mouth, his clean and musky flavor sliding over his palate.

Maintaining eye contact, Jaehyun pulls back, suctioning his lips. Johnny’s lashes flutter. He hunches over, dark hair damp along his hairline and curtaining his face. “Fuck, baby.”

Jaehyun rewards the pet-name with a deep moan as he slides down Johnny’s cock again. This time, he doesn’t stop until Johnny is pushing at the back of his throat. Johnny gasps out a strangled curse.

If Jaehyun could, he’d smile. Instead, he presses down further, taking in as much of Johnny as he can.

“Holy shit,” Johnny groans, “Fuck baby, you feel so good.”

Jaehyun hums, keeping a steady rhythm even as spit starts collecting at the corner of his mouth. He sees Johnny’s hands twitch, knuckles white where they’re strangling the couch.

Pulling off, he soothes the absence of his mouth with open-mouthed kisses to Johnny’s cockhead. “Grab my hair.”

“Y-your hair?”

“Yeah.” Jaehyun smiles, Johnny’s tip resting on his lower lip, dimples on full display. “Want you to fuck my mouth.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“He’s not involved in this,” Jaehyun laughs.

Johnny’s hands slide into his hair. He takes a moment to run his fingers through the soft strands, thumbing just under Jaehyun’s ear, before taking a steady hold. “You sure?”

Jaehyun hums his affirmative, tongue digging into Johnny’s slit. “Yes.”

“Then open your mouth, baby.”

Jaw dropping, Jaehyun sticks his tongue out, a ready invitation for Johnny to use as he pleases. Johnny growls, low and bordering on feral as he slaps his dick against Jaehyun’s tongue then pushes in with another preamble.

He strikes true on the first stroke in, pushing Jaehyun down until he’s choking on each swallow. Johnny pulls back slowly, watches his dick shine with spit and Jaehyun’s watery eyes peering up at him through damp lashes.

“Fuck.” Johnny thrusts back in, truly using his leverage to dive deep into Jaehyun’s throat and stay there with only shallow twitches of his hips. “Fuck, baby. You look so obscene, so fucking pretty with your lips stretched on my cock.” He thrusts in a few more times, biting out groans each time Jaehyun sucks when he pulls back. “You know, I always fucking loved your dimples, but damn, I think this is the best they’ve looked. I should come on your face, yeah? Fill them up.”

Jaehyun moans loudly at the thought, body twitching and his own cock straining and wetting a large patch against his jeans.

“Next time, baby. This time,” he drives his hips forward, and his cock bulges in Jaehyun’s throat. “I’m gonna come in your mouth, okay?”

With his mouth stuffed full of cock, Jaehyun can only moan his acquiescence. He’s a mess of spit, thick strings running down his chin and neck. He runs his hands up Johnny’s thighs, stroking from his inner thigh to cup his balls and roll them between his fingers.

“Fuck, fuck,” Johnny moans full-throated, his thrusts growing more erratic. “Fuck, your mouth is fucking magic baby, I’m close.”

Johnny only takes a few more minutes, hips rolling fluidly through the wet heat of Jaehyun’s mouth into the tight constriction of his throat. He comes with a hoarse shout, body shaking as Jaehyun suckles his tip hands tugging on his shaft to get every last drop of the salty cum in his mouth.

Jaehyun barely swallows Johnny’s load before Johnny hauls him up and crashes their lips together. The kiss is passionate, albeit messy. Johnny slips his tongue into Jaehyun’s mouth, flicking over his teeth and rubbing against Jaehyun’s own tongue. He can undoubtedly taste his own release, but he doesn’t seem to care, nor does he care about the smear of Jaehyun’s saliva that presses onto his chin.

“Lemme help you,” Johnny breathes into their kiss.

Pulling back just enough to speak and meet Johnny’s eyes, Jaehyun smiles, a softer curve to his lips than what’s graced them all night. “Don’t worry about it. I wanted to do this for you.”

Johnny smiles in return, eyes crinkling as he snuggles into Jaehyun. “I get that, but I want to make you come too.”

“You did.” Jaehyun grimaces a bit, but rolls hips into Johnny, pressing the very obvious wet patch into his skin.

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“But,” Johnny whines, a sad little moue on his swollen lips, “but I wanted to taste you too.”

“Johnny,” Jaehyun levels Johnny with a serious look. “We like each other, right?” Johnny nods, burrowing further into Jaehyun’s hold. “And we live together. I think we’ll have plenty of time to do all of that and more.”

“More?” Johnny lays a kiss on Jaehyun's clavicle.

“Yep,” Jaehyun says, “You know, the red moon is all about reaping the abundance. I figure we’ve let our feelings build up for so long there’s a lot to gather in. Plus, sucking your cock isn’t the only thing I’ve fantasized about.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. We can even start one now.” Jaehyun smiles. “You become my boyfriend and take me to bed and finger me until I cry.”

“Fuck, baby, Jae,” Johnny groans. He plies Jaehyun’s face with butterfly kisses, just trying to cover as much skin as he can reach. “Think I can make you come again before the food gets here?”

“Sounds like a challenge to me.”

Johnny smirks and hoists Jaehyun up, big hands holding onto the back of Jaehyun’s thighs as he walks them down the hall. A snap of his fingers has the candles blowing out.

“Your room,” Jaehyun says from where he lining Johnny’s neck with marks red enough to rival the moon. “I won’t be able to come if I know Stephen is watching.”

Johnny’s laughter follows them as they tumble onto his bed. For once, Jaehyun doesn’t worry about messing up; Johnny’s love wasn’t gained love potion or ensnaring enchantment. There is something, Jaehyun thinks, that has to be magical about the two of them finally coming together, but he won’t look at it too closely, more than happy to finally reap what has long been sown.


End file.
